Part 8 (1/2)
The arrival of the little band created a stir. The hideous old man, with a sort of straw-bonnet, who had been beating on the antelope skin drum called by Sikaso a ”tom-tom” saw them and instantly picked up his instrument and waddled off with as much dignity as his age and a much distended stomach would allow him. The younger men, however, advanced boldly toward the party. Some of them carried, spears, others held Birmingham matchlocks of the kind the British and French Governments have in vain tried to keep out of the hands of the West African natives. These guns are smuggled in by hundreds, by Arab traders who exchange the ”gas-pipe” weapons worth perhaps two dollars a-piece for priceless ivory, and even human flesh for the slave dhows.
”Seesanah (peace),” said Sikaso gravely, advancing in his turn.
”Seesanah,” echoed the tribesmen, who evidently recognized Sikaso from their greetings. The boys stood grouped in the background-- Billy Barnes and Lathrop even viewing with some alarm the advance of the savage-looking natives.
”Well, he seems to have fallen in with several members of his club,”
remarked the irrepressible Billy as old Sikaso and the natives talked away at a great rate.
”I'm going to get a picture of some of these n.i.g.g.e.rs when they get through,” he continued aside to Lathrop.
”What; you brought a camera?” asked the other boy.
”Sure thing,” replied Billy, ”and if their ugly mugs don't break the lens, I mean to get some good snaps.”
He drew a small flat folding camera from his pocket as he spoke and got it ready for action.
”Do you think Frank would stand for it? It might make trouble you know,” said Lathrop.
”Pshaw,” retorted the c.o.c.ksure Billy, ”what trouble can it make? I wish I knew bow to say 'Look pleasant, please,' in Hottentot, or whatever language these fellows talk.”
By this time old Sikaso's 'pow-wow' was over and he motioned Frank and Harry forward. After they had been introduced to the chiefs and headmen of the village, the ”big chief,” a villainous-looking old party with only one eye and his legs thrust into a red s.h.i.+rt--into the armholes that is, with the rest of the garment rolled round his waist--announced he was ready to give fresh provisions for calico, red and blue, and several sections of the bra.s.s rod that pa.s.ses for currency on the West Coast. While Frank, Harry and Sikaso were bargaining behind a hut, over the price to be charged for a razor-backed porker of suspicious appearance the village suddenly became filled with an uproar of angry shouts and tumult.
”What can be the matter?” exclaimed Frank, as the boys, followed by the old chief and Sikaso, rushed from behind the hut to ascertain the cause of the disturbance.
Standing in the center of a crowd of excited villagers was Billy Barnes, his helmet knocked off and an arrow sticking through it. He looked scared to death as well he might, for by his side was a stalwart young African, brandis.h.i.+ng a heavy-bladed spear above his head. At the young reporter's feet lay the ill-fated camera that had caused all the trouble.
What had happened was this. As soon as Frank and Harry and their companions had left him and Lathrop alone, Billy had started to carry out his determination to take some pictures. The first subject he selected was a serious-faced little baby, innocent of any clothing, that sat playing with a ragged dog at, the entrance of one of the beehive huts. He had just clicked the b.u.t.ton and exclaimed:
”This will be a jim-dandy,” when he felt something whistle through the air and the next minute his hat lay at his feet with an arrow in it. In an instant the child's father--convinced that Billy was putting Ju-ju medicine on the child--was upon him, armed with his big hunting spear and followed by half the village. Even Billy--scared as he was--did not realize how very near to death he actually came to being. Sikaso's shouted words in a native dialect caused the tribesmen to fall back but they still muttered angrily.
Stepping swiftly up to the camera Sikaso with a single blow of his axe smashed it to pieces.
”Here, that's no way to treat my camera!” Billy was indignantly beginning, when Frank gripped his shoulder in an iron-clutch and whispered:
”Shut up; if you don't want to make more trouble.”
Billy was starting on an angry remonstrance when he caught Frank's eye. The young leader was really angry and Billy prudently refrained from saying any more.
As for Sikaso--after demolis.h.i.+ng Billy's machine, he turned to the tribesmen and addressing them in stately tones said--as he afterward translated it to Frank:
”Village fools. You see there is no magic in the little black box.
It is nothing but a child's plaything for the fat, spectacled idiot.” (This part of the oration Frank did not communicate to Billy.) ”You see I have smashed it. Do I fear? Do I look now like a man in terror of the white man's medicine. It is nothing. It is broken and gone like the cloud before the wind, like the shadow on the mountain side.”
The effect of all this was soothing and the boys left the camp, to order some of their packmen to bring home the provisions, with light hearts. As for Billy his ears burned by the time Frank got through reading him a lecture.
”I'm sorry,” he said bravely, ”and I won't do it again. Gee! talk about 'press the b.u.t.ton and we'll do the rest.'”
”They nearly did it--didn't they,” laughed Frank, his good humor quite restored.